


Irenic

by inspiredbythemusic



Category: ASTRO (Band), ATEEZ (Band), BLACKPINK (Band), Divergent Series - Veronica Roth, EXO (Band), K-pop, Monsta X (Band), Multi-Fandom, NCT (Band), SEVENTEEN (Band), f(x), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:21:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23449219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inspiredbythemusic/pseuds/inspiredbythemusic
Summary: Ren is faced with the same choice as every other sixteen year old: which faction will she spend the rest of her life in? Her Aptitude Test does little to aid in the decision, and she has to decide for herself– who is she? Who does she want to be? Selfless, Peaceful, Intelligent, Honest, or Brave in a world where nobody should be all of the above? The choice is hers. But one thing is clear: nobody can know that she is Divergent.Note: I am not sure that I would call my descriptions of violence 'graphic,' but Divergent is an action book, so. . . I guess it's better to be safe than sorry!
Relationships: Amber Liu/Peniel Shin, Jennie Kim/Changkyun, Lee Minhyuk (Monsta X)/Original Character(s), Son Hyunwoo | Shownu/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 2





	1. Memory

**Author's Note:**

> I am also currently posting this Divergent AU series on Tumblr. As you can see from the character list, it is very multifandom. I think I included everyone that will be in the story in the character list, but keep an eye out for other cameo characters! Also, I am not sure that I would call my descriptions of violence 'graphic,' but Divergent is an action book, so. . . I guess it's better to be safe than sorry! -Ash

I often revisit the day I met my best friend. I close my eyes, and I am eight years old again— exactly half the age I will be when my eyes open. I close my eyes, and the breeze is biting my skin because I gave my gray jacket to a much younger girl who left hers on the bus. It doesn’t matter anyway. The thin fabric wouldn’t have kept goosebumps from rising to the surface of my skin. 

I am walking home because there will not be enough seats on the bus. There are never enough. And I’m tired of sacrificing my seat. That morning on my way to school, I stood so an older man could take my seat. Maybe if I had known that the bus driver was making up for falling behind schedule by speeding around every corner, I would have clutched the rail with both bony hands until my knuckles turned an unnatural white. Had I predicted that everyone would point and laugh when I fell flat on my back, that my face would burn with embarrassment although the Abnegation— even the children— shouldn’t care about anything but having done the selfless deed, I wouldn’t have stood for that man who didn’t even mumble a ‘thank you.’

Too busy trying to shake the memory of Hyungwon hovering over me to ask “Are you okay?” I don’t notice the large dog that stands in the middle of my path. I shouldn’t be here, but it’s not because of stray animals. It’s because of the Factionless. It’s because children shouldn’t wander the streets alone. 

After deciding over lunch that I would never ride the bus again, I kept an apple in my bag to offer to any Factionless who approached me on the walk home because that was the worst scenario. I am prepared for that. But not for what happens. I never see it coming. 

The dog has me flattened against the crumbling, uneven pavement in a blur. My chin burns at the rough contact with the ground. As the dog scratches and bites, I’m sure, in a desperate effort to protect itself although I’m the most unthreatening living creature or to get the food in my bag, all I can do is cover my face and wait for it to stop. Tears don’t come because I’m too shocked to even breathe. My heart races and I think for a minute that I can fight it off—

But I can’t. It’s standing on my back. And when I try to stand— and I can’t because it’s too heavy— the dog attacks with renewed vigor. 

I am starting to realize that this isn’t going to end, and I’m too terrified to scream, and all I can think is that when this animal kills me— and it’s definitely going to kill me— my mother will have nobody. Our empty home will be emptier. Maybe she won’t even notice a difference. I don’t speak much anyway. I never did— 

Then it happens. With a yelp, the dog retracts its claws, and that’s when the pain sets in. I lift my head, though, too curious about what happened to realize how much it hurts. Once I’m out from behind the shield I created with my arms, I watch the dog run deeper into the Factionless sector, far into a darkened corner. I won’t chase it. 

It isn’t until a boy wearing gray clothes like mine appears before me, offering the very hand depicted in our faction’s symbol, that I understand. He has come to rescue me. I don’t know why he didn’t take the bus, and I don’t know how he intimidated the dog, and I don’t ask. As he helps me to my feet, I say, “Thank you.”

He doesn’t respond to that. “You shouldn’t walk alone like that. That’s stupid.”

He doesn’t talk like any of the other Abnegation, but I recognize him from school. I recognize him from my father’s funeral, and he must recognize me from his mother’s funeral because I’m wearing the same somber expression I wore then. 

Even if I didn’t know Changkyun in the vague way all Abnegation children know each other, even if he wasn’t wearing the required all gray attire, even though he didn’t speak the same way as the rest of us, his faction is expressed through his actions. He sheds his jacket and hands it to me. 

Then, looking down at my tattered clothes, I realize the dog tore through my dress. Bloodied flesh is exposed, and I wince more because of my violated modesty than because of the pain of the breeze gushing through my wounds. Although it stings, I tug his sleeves over my arms and cross them. “Thank you,” I nod. Then, noticing how deep crimson blood seeps through the fabric, I apologize. 

He just shrugs. “It’s yours now.” He picks up my bag. I must have dropped it somehow. Slinging it over his shoulder without a complaint, he assumes I won’t follow him, so he says, “Come on. I’ll walk you home.”

The injuries to my back and legs bleed more when I move, but I act like I don’t notice because that’s what I’m supposed to do. 

“There’s nobody around,” Changkyun reminds me. “You can cry if it hurts.”

Nobody has ever encouraged me to give in to selfishness, so I bristle at the suggestion. I even glare at him as I point out, “You’re around.”

“I don’t count.” His steps don’t falter even when he looks at my face for the first time. It’s the first time he’s made eye contact with anyone since his mother’s funeral. I know because it’s all the kids from other factions can talk about: the fact that his eyes are permanently fixed on the floor. He looks at me to say, “It’s not selfish to cry when you’re hurt.”

I don’t know if I disagree, but I know I don’t believe him. So I don’t shed a single tear until I give in to the habit of running my thumb over the face of my watch, the only accessory Abnegation allows. The hot tears are reactionary, a response to the fragmented glass that lodges into the pad of my thumb. 

At the cry of pain, Changkyun turns to me. Without dropping either of our bags, he cradles my hand in his. He pulls the glass out, yanks the broken watch off of my wrist, and drops my hand. 

“You don’t want this, do you?” He nods toward the watch in his palm. 

It doesn’t look salvageable. And even if it is, I don’t know how to fix it. When I shake my head, he throws it as hard as he can into the Factionless sector behind us. As he sets us back onto the course to my house or his— and it doesn’t matter which because they are side by side— he swears, “I’ll give you my watch when we get home.”

And he does. It’s too big because, although we’re the same age, he’s a lot bigger than me, so it slides down my arm, but I promise to wear it every day. And I do, even after Hyungwon frowns when I tell him where I got it. 

Before Changkyun leaves me in front of my house that looks exactly like his and every other house in Abnegation, he notices how my fingertips graze over my face. Knowing that it will be almost another three months before we get to see our reflections again when our hair is cut, he steps forward, tears a small corner of fabric from his shirt, wets it with his tongue, and wipes the bloodstain from my chin. It isn’t supposed to matter, but he assures me, “It’s a small cut. It won’t scar like the others.”

I open my eyes. I am sixteen years old. Changkyun and I are walking down that same path the dog stood on years ago because we still don’t want to give up our seats on the bus. We walk in silence because the Aptitude Test is all we can think about, and we aren’t allowed to talk about that. 

Abnegation discourages public displays of affection— or maybe they discourage all physical affection— but that doesn’t’ stop Changkyun from holding my hand. I stiffen. Nobody will see us, and I’m used to Changkyun’s small rebellions against our faction, and I’m nearly immune to the guilt that twists my stomach in knots when I break rules. I squirm because I know why he’s touching me. And I don’t want to think about Hyungwon. 

Changkyun only says, “It’s been a year.”

A year since Hyunwon broke his promise at the Choosing Ceremony. A year I’ve been walking around gray Abnegation with a heart broken because of an unfulfilled vow that never should have been made. A year to decide that no matter what the Aptitude Test says, I will not transfer to Erudite because I never want to see him again. 

A year Changkyun and I have avoided talking about it not because the Choosing Ceremony is a forbidden topic— Changkyun doesn’t care too much about avoiding something just because it’s forbidden. Not because Abnegation says it’s selfish to be angry and to miss someone and to have ever experienced the kind of love that shatters the world when it ends. But because it makes me ill to even remember, Changkyun is kind enough to bite his tongue. He cares enough about my feelings to avoid this one act of rebellion until the day of our Aptitude Test. 

Maybe I should think it’s liberating. Hyungwon freed me from a commitment to live in Abnegation where I probably didn’t belong when he transferred to Erudite despite his promise to be with me forever. But I don’t feel liberated. It hurts still because— maybe Abnegation is gray, and maybe I’m not the best at being selfless, but Hyungwon wasn’t gray. If he had stayed in Abnegation— 

Well, there’s no point in thinking about the fact that I was in love with him. There’s no point in acknowledging that as much I miss him, I miss the comfort of having a certain plan for my future. Why should I admit that I am frightened by the freedom to choose my own future? 

I almost ask Changkyun which faction he plans to choose when his hand tightens around mine. But I don’t. I won’t make him responsible for both of us— just in case he’s as anxious as I am. He always said I was stupid for planning my life around Hyungwon, although he hadn’t reminded me of that since he left, so he probably wouldn’t have told me anyway. 

Besides, the answer is obvious. He’s never as excited as when the Dauntless jump off their train and race into the school, laughing at each other’s jokes and bragging about their new tattoos and piercings. He has probably been counting the days until he gets to run with them. He probably doesn’t know that saying goodbye to him has always been my most recurring nightmare. And I won’t tell him. 

“Hey.” I stop walking, and he drops my hand and shoves his hands into his pockets. “Let’s race to school—” to prepare you for the rest of your life in Dauntless, I almost say. But I can’t do it. 

He doesn’t believe in my forced smile, but he agrees anyway. “You got it, Ren.” He lowers into a stance he picked up from admiring the Dauntless. 

Any other day, I would scold him for refusing to use my full name, but today— just for today— I let it slide. Just for today, I allow myself to genuinely smile at the nickname. 


	2. Choose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren takes her Aptitude Test to discover whether she belongs in Abnegation, Amity, Erudite, Candor, or Dauntless.

My stomach churns in anticipation of the Aptitude Test. I sit stiffly in the chair, unable to comfortably rest my head despite my administrators’ repeated requests. My knuckle bursting grip tightens when his eyes lock with mine. 

I’ve had more than enough time to study him. He’s tall, his shoulders are broad, and his muscles bulge under a tight long-sleeved black shirt. His hair is not dyed any crazy color; it is a natural brown combed neatly to the side. He has no piercings— except one on the lobe of each ear— and any tattoos are concealed either by the shirt or by his tight black leather pants, but there’s no doubt. He’s Dauntless. 

His faction is never more obvious than when he emits a low chuckle as I avert my gaze because my face burns when he looks at me. He doesn’t call me Stiff like the Dauntless boys in class. Maybe they outgrow that insult by a certain age. He’s definitely older than me, but not so much older that it’s creepy when he hums, “Cute.”

My only response is the sudden pounding of my heart, which I know he can’t hear. I wish he would look away and focus on his job instead. Suddenly, he grabs a small vial off of his little work station and strides toward me, and I worry that maybe he can read minds. 

“I’m Shownu. I’ll be administering your test, obviously.” Maybe he notices that I’m not breathing and attributes that to test anxiety instead of our abrupt close proximity. His tone, which was already much gentler than any other Dauntless softens when he hands me the vial. “Just drink this, and — sorry—”

What is he apologizing for? My brow furrows as I watch him step away from the chair. He starts to shed his shirt before he poorly hides himself behind his tiny computer screen. 

If I wasn’t so surprised, I would politely turn my head, but I’m petrified. I gawk as he balls the shirt up, throws it under the desk the screen is propped on, and sets to adjusting his undershirt. It, of course, is also black. As he stretches, I realize that his arms are bare— without a trace of the ink associated with Dauntless. 

“Sorry.” He laughs when he catches me staring at him. He’s embarrassed— an emotion unknown to Dauntless— and it’s obvious because his face turns scarlet as he scratches at the back of his neck. “It’s just really hot in here.”

It is, but I had attributed that to my nerves. 

He returns to the chair’s side, crosses his arms over his chest, and asks, “Where was I, Serenity?”

I almost flinch at my name, which is strange considering how many hours I have wasted trying to convince Changkyun to call me Serenity instead of Ren. Shownu looks at me, eyebrows raised, expecting a response, but I can’t seem to speak. The silence is unbearable, so I ask all that’s in my mind. “Why don’t you have tattoos like the other ones?”

It sounds offensive, aside from being irrelevant, and I almost regret saying anything. 

“I definitely wasn’t at the part where I ask if you have any questions,” he jokes, evidently unaffected by my question. Why would he be affected? He’s strong. Immune to my particular brand of carelessness. His eyebrows wiggle as he teases, “Maybe I have a bunch of tattoos. Maybe you just can’t see them when I’m wearing all these clothes. Maybe, if you ask real nice, I’ll show you a few.” He reaches for the hem of his shirt, but he doesn’t go so far as to pull it up. 

All Dauntless are like this. On the rare occasion that they talk to me, it’s always to get a Stiff’s reaction to their promiscuity. Usually, I stutter, blush, and glance anywhere except their laughing eyes. But that’s my response to kids I see at school every day. I don’t expect that I’ll see Shownu ever again, so I easily convince myself to stare into his eyes, knowing that color is rising to my cheeks. 

Nothing witty comes out of my mouth. “You told me to drink this—” I raise the little cup of liquid. 

If he’s disappointed by my lack of response, I can’t tell. He nods, “Right. Drink that, and you’ll be faced with choices that will narrow down which faction you belong in.” Just before I pour the serum into my mouth, he says, “Don’t sweat it too much, okay? Most people get whatever faction they’re born in.”

My eyebrow twitches. Why does he assume that will comfort me? It should. So why doesn’t it? Why does it bother me?

I don’t want to think about things I can’t understand, so I down the serum in one gulp before Shownu can add anything else. I blink, and then I am alone in the room. 

I wonder where Shownu is for less than a second before forcing myself out of the cold mechanical chair. Since nobody is here, I am free to look at my reflection. The thought that I’m supposed to wait until my next haircut dashes across my mind. I ignore it. For the first time, I see my full body reflected in the large mirror on the wall. 

I’m skinnier than I imagined. Shorter than I thought based on how I tower over other girls. Waves of brown hair have escaped the bun that sits at the base of my neck— I should fix it. The wide black eyes staring back don’t reveal the depth of my anxiety. They look calm. If I glance just briefly, I see just a teenage girl in a gray dress; a plain girl; a perfect picture of Abnegation. But the longer I look, I notice that more than one thin wave has escaped my bun; I notice that there are loose threads on my dress; I notice that there is a natural upturn to the corner of my mouth that I learned from Changkyun— that other Abnegation don’t have. I notice that I am a flawed picture of Abnegation. 

A voice— Shownu’s voice— distracts me from the reflection I would have analyzed all day. “Choose.”

His voice sounds so close, he must be behind me. So why can’t I see him in the mirror? I don’t quite expect to see him when I turn around, but I definitely don’t expect to be faced with two short pillars. One holds a slice of cheese that’s much brighter than anything I’ve ever eaten. The other holds a sharpened knife. 

He repeats more forcefully as if concerned I hadn’t heard him the first time, “Choose.”

It’s against some unspoken rule to ask why I have to choose— I can feel that— so I don’t ask. What good will the cheese do if I have to defend myself against some kind of threat? Granted, I have never used a knife outside of the kitchen when chopping vegetables quietly at my mother’s side. Will I be able to use it to defend myself when I have heard all my life that self-defense is self-serving? Even if I can put aside Abnegation’s teachings, will I be strong enough to cause an injury? 

I am taking too long to choose. What if I run out of time? This fear of being defenseless prompts me to clutch the knife. I can’t drop it, no matter how my hands tremble. No matter how much my palms sweat, I won’t let go. 

This resolve is shortlived. A growling dog appears behind me. It’s not the dog from my childhood. Or is it? I never got a good look at that dog before; maybe it had long, matted black hair and sharp teeth like this one. Besides, they’re all the same to me. They all inspire the same paralyzing dread. 

The knife clatters against the floor, and I dive after it. The dog leaps across the distance between us before I can get my hand around the hilt and all I can think is, I’m going to die, I’m going to die, I’m going to die. It’s as if the scars on my back and legs are reopened, and it hurts too much to move. 

The dog’s pink tongue lips a playful stripe across my face— from my chin to my forehead. And I’m glad my actions were delayed by fear. There is no question: I would have killed his animal if I had been quick enough to grab the knife or if I hadn’t dropped it in the first place. As I stroke its fur, I wonder if I imagined the earlier aggression. I wonder if I had been acting out of a past fear— and that thought scares me and strikes through me with a pang of guilt. 

I decide that I won’t be like that again— paralyzed by my fear of dogs— and I can finally breathe for the first time since that day when I was eight years old. Until a boy runs into the room, cheering, “A puppy!”

A quick glance over the dog’s head reveals that it isn’t just any child. It’s Changkyun, he’s eight years old, and this dog has laid eyes on him and decided he’s a threat. 

The panic that washes over me as the dog sprints— is this what Changkyun felt when he stumbled upon that dog attacking me in the Factionless sector? I barely have time to consider it— I barely succumb to that sense of empathy before I’m chasing after the dog, blade ready in my hand. 

As I tackle the dog and pin all of my weight on it, Changkyun screams, “What are you doing?” His voice rips through the air. His voice tears through me. 

What am I doing? The dog can’t look up at me with wide, fearful eyes because I’ve grabbed it around the neck. I am sickened by my actions, although they were necessary to protect the child. I know the scars this dog is capable of creating. I can’t see them, but I remember when I could feel them. 

Still, I throw the knife aside because I don’t want to be a murderer. No matter how much I hate the scars. No matter how much I fear—

Shownu’s pale face is right in front of mine when my eyes open, and we share a gasp. The terror that gripped me just moments ago quickly pales in comparison to whatever heart-pounding feeling overwhelms me when he yanks me out of the chair. 

“What faction are you choosing?” He pants as he drags me behind his computer. 

I don’t know. It depends on my result. But I don’t tell Shownu that. “You’re not allowed to ask me that—”

He doesn’t want to be reminded of the rules. Surely, he doesn’t need to be reminded. His fingers dance across the keyboard, and he tells me, “I’m putting in Abnegation. As far as anyone knows, you have an aptitude for Abnegation just every other Abnegation who’s sat in my chair today.”

“As far as anyone knows?” I snatch my hand out of his grasp, and he only looks me in the eyes when I challenge, “Nobody should be asking anyway. And why are you manually entering—”

Shownu interrupts me with a quiet voice. It isn’t his volume that strikes me silent. It’s the way his eyebrows lower as he says, “You’re asking dangerous questions.” For somebody who supposedly rejects fear, his still pale face looks very afraid when he instructs, “Never bring up Divergence to anybody. Just go home and think hard about what faction you want to join.”

“Divergence?” The word means nothing to me, so I stare at him blankly. He doesn’t define it, though, and that mystery is more frightening than anything. “What is there to think about? I’m supposed to choose whatever the Aptitude Test says.”

Finally, he explains, “That won’t work for you. Your test didn’t narrow it down more than saying you could belong in Abnegation, Amity, and Dauntless.”

Hyungwon used to talk about the benefit of having many options; I don’t see any benefit. Saying that I belong in three factions really means that I don’t fully belong in any. To not fit into a faction is worse than death— that’s what our society says. 

“What good is that?” I yell until I’m red in the face, and Shownu covers my mouth with his hand. What good is it to rule out Erudite, which I would never choose under any circumstances and Candor, whose manifesto I disagree with more than any other? 

I struggle to pry Shownu’s hand away, but he won’t budge. He whispers sternly, “Understand this: Divergence isn’t something to yell about. Keep it secret— more secret than everyone else keeps their result. Understand?” He lets go only once I nod. He pulls me to the exit and urges again, “Go home and decide if you want to be selfless, peaceful, or brave.”

I leave knowing only one thing: I have to make my decision before I get home. Seeing my mother in our empty home will instantly convince me to spend the rest of my life in those gray walls with her— 

That thought makes me frown. The Aptitude Test says I’m selfless, and our system insists that I should put faith in Erudite’s technology, but it must be some kind of glitch. That must be a result of sixteen years of conditioning in Abnegation. It’s not a true reflection of who I am. The moment I’m left alone, I think something as selfish as considering my mother a burden. Just like Hyungwon considered me a burden best left behind. 

It’s obvious a few steps into my walk that I am not worthy of Abnegation. The entire time I’ve lived here, I have been unworthy, and I don’t know how to change. I don’t know if I can. It’s not enough to be selfless— I can’t see the world in shades of gray forever. And if I’m honest in my thoughts— if I can admit the truth to myself— all that prevents me from running away is my mother. My mother who has so rarely broken from her ritual of mourning my father that she realizes only on our last night together, “You have a big day tomorrow.” And she says it in a tone that tells me she has accepted that I can’t stay. 

I wonder how long she has known. I wonder how long it has taken her to say goodbye. I wonder if it was hard for her. I wonder if she will miss me. But Abnegation builds borders between people that I can’t cross. And even if I were free to ask— I wouldn’t. That’s why I could never live in Candor. 

The Amity result surely comes from the moment I decided against killing the dog. The Amity kids are nice enough. They always invite me to sing with them in the hallway between classes, but I’ve never tried to carry the tune, and Abnegation prohibits me from embracing any such attention. The Amity kids always smile, and I would like to smile like that. But do I believe that aggression is the cause of society’s downfall? I suppose I do. 

But I can’t forget that I grabbed the knife during the test. I can’t forget that it made me feel the way Changkyun does— secure, safe, prepared. Amity swears against war and violence. So does Abnegation. And today I violated those beliefs, and it doesn’t matter that I did it to protect somebody else. 

I am not brave. I am not strong. I can’t imagine myself wearing all black or getting piercings or tattoos. I can’t imagine myself running with the Dauntless. But I realize the problem with me is: I have always been afraid. Always. And I cope by hiding behind Changkyun. In school, we learned about the manifestos, and I haven’t been able to forget that the Dauntless say, “We believe in freedom from fear, in denying fear the power to influence our decisions.”

I don’t know if I believe that’s possible, but I want it to be. I want that freedom. All my life, I have tried and failed to fit into Abnegation’s beautiful mold. It’s not possible. But maybe— maybe I can choose to grow into an ideal Dauntless. Maybe their initiation can shape me into the person I have always wanted to be. Maybe bravery isn’t innate; maybe it’s a choice. That’s what I have to believe: it’s my choice to be brave. 

And that’s why I hold my bloodied hand over the burning coals the next day at the Choosing Ceremony— because the Dauntless believe in action, and I choose to be Dauntless. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're having a lovely day! Feedback is always appreciated!


	3. Jumping Trains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren has chosen Dauntless, and she learns that she is only as strong as her best ally.

Changkyun wants to scold me when he slumps into the seat next to me. Nobody speaks during the Choosing Ceremony except to cheer when someone claims their faction. Changkyun doesn’t rebel against this rule— it’s everyone’s instinct to obey. He settles for giving me a pointed look before jumping to his feet like every other Dauntless when another transfer joins us from Amity. 

As soon as the Choosing Ceremony ends, we run. This is our life now. Running to get where we have to go. Running to catch up with the train. Running and taking that leap into the unknown. 

Changkyun is silent although we are among the first on the train thanks to our practice of racing to school every day. We’re Dauntless. Both of us. And he can’t scold me because we made the same decision. And I made it first. He can’t accuse me of following him like I was willing to follow Hyungwon. He can’t accuse me of neglecting my best interest to be with a familiar face because I didn’t do this for him. 

He didn’t expect me to choose Dauntless, and that’s especially obvious from the way he looks at me when we press our backs against the cold vibrating wall of the train car. He knows he can’t ask why I made this decision while everyone piles into the train, so he sets his gaze to those outside, to those struggling to catch up. 

Changkyun leaves Abnegation behind and stays in the safety of the train. We raced to get here. We have every right to demand that others put in that same effort. I know this. But when I look out the opening to my side, I realize that these people who can’t run fast enough— they’re already Factionless. Worse than dead, society says. And I’m watching them die. I’m letting them die. 

“What are you doing?” Changkyun hisses when I lean out and strain to brace myself against the wind. Those are his first words as a Dauntless initiate. The tone is disapproving, but he grabs me around the waist when he thinks the momentum threatens to pull me out. He doesn’t drag me in even if he wants to. 

I am extending my small hand to a girl from Candor. Her former faction is easy to recognize because of her black and white blazer. The skin-tone bandage I pressed on my palm while running with Changkyun is blown away while her long dark hair unravels from its ponytail. Her eyes are closed. She is pushing herself, but it’s not enough. 

“Come on!” I have to scream for her to open her eyes. “You can do it! I’ll pull you in!”

She grabs my hand. The cut from the Choosing Ceremony burns just slightly. And with Changkyun’s help, I pull her inside as promised. 

My actions weren’t motivated by a desire for gratitude, but it surprises me when she jumps to her feet. She glares down at me and snaps, “Don’t you think you should distance yourself from that selfless act, Stiff?”

Others in the train watch as I stand after untangling myself from Changkyun’s grip. And I guess they’re disappointed when all I can do is stare, baffled and embarrassed, while she combs her fingers through her disheveled hair. 

She’s just trying to fit in with the tough Dauntless image. She has to since she’s the only one dragged into the train by somebody else’s strength. Maybe I should let her establish her Dauntless identity. I have one already. I am one of two Abnegation transfers. I am one of the first initiates onto the train. I am responsible for saving her life— for saving her from being Factionless— for giving her a chance in her chosen faction. 

Changkyun doesn’t let me sacrifice for her. He doesn’t rise from his position on the floor. “Don’t you think you should act a little grateful? Ren’s the reason you’re not Factionless, passed out on the side of the tracks.”

Her eyes widen. She can’t deny it, so she points out, “You did most of the lifting.” 

Changkyun won’t look at her. He leans once more against the wall. “I wouldn’t have risked myself for you. You’re here because Ren felt sorry for you. And because I didn’t want her to fall out of the train for someone who gets winded after a little bit of running.”

She winces. Maybe there is some truth to what Changkyun says, but that doesn’t mean he should say it. 

The motion of the train is making me dizzy, so I do what many of the other initiates are doing: I sit. She’s right— Changkyun carried most of her weight, but I’m still winded. I wasn’t exhausted after jumping into the train car, but I am breathless after helping her. 

“You would have caught up,” I tell the Candor girl. I say it loudly enough for everyone to hear. My voice doesn’t sound the same as it did in Abnegation. 

Maybe she doesn’t want to owe a favor to a Stiff— not that I expected anything in return. She huffs, “No, I wouldn’t have.” She nods at Changkyun, “Your boyfriend is right. Thanks.”

The first thing I say, prompted by Changkyun’s snort of a laugh, is, “He’s not my boyfriend.” She doesn’t quite believe me, and I don’t care. “You’re welcome.”

A former Erudite says, “You should jump out.” He says it matter-of-factly, without any hint of malice. His eyes don’t narrow at the Candor girl as he lectures with careful rationale, “If you can’t even pass the first physical test, what makes you think you’ll survive initiation?” 

He stands with his arms crossed. He uncrosses them to shed his blue vest. He holds it out of the train, and it is swept away by the wind. 

The Candor girl says nothing in her defense, so I tell him, “You should mind your own business.”

His eyes narrow at me. He is one of the Erudite who loathes Abnegation; that should offend me, but it doesn’t. It validates my immediate decision to dislike him. He spits, “You should mind yours, Stiff. And don’t fill our ranks with those who can’t keep up.”

“Yah!” A Dauntless-born boy yawns and rolls his eyes at the ex-Erudite. “Isn’t it too early to be a total ass?”

Another boy from Erudite— one who towers over everyone else and wears glasses— glances at his watch and answers, “It’s well past noon. And it’s never too early for Kris to be insufferable.”

The first Erudite— Kris— rolls his eyes. 

The Dauntless-born initiate falls asleep against a girl with short black hair and arms marked with ink. She is the most Dauntless looking girl I have ever seen. Her fierce appearance softens as she smiles and rubs absentmindedly at her nose ring. “Ah, well, that makes sense. Noon is Lucas’s naptime.” She pats the Dauntless boy’s fluffy brown hair as she names him. “I’m Amber, by the way.”

Kris scoffs. “So we’re going to go around and introduce ourselves now?”

My hatred for Erudite intensifies whenever Kris speaks— it doesn’t matter if he isn’t technically one of them anymore. It doesn’t matter that we are now pledged to the same faction: I will never be like him. I decide it’s best to ignore him. That always gets under an Erudite’s skin. 

A former Amity boy must agree. “My name is Kihyun.” He is sitting because his face is turning green. “And this is Minhyuk.” He gestures to a baby faced boy with hair, whose black eyes keep stealing glances out of the compartment. 

We have long passed those who are now Factionless, but the vacancy in his eyes implies that he can’t escape them. They have taken residence in his mind. Maybe he pities them too. Or maybe— maybe he’s considering what Kris said to the Candor girl. Maybe he thinks he’s best left with them. 

I tear my eyes away from Minhyuk only when the second Erudite boy— the one wearing glasses— says, “I’m Mingyu,” with a beaming smile. He looks strong enough to be Dauntless, his smile is warm enough to belong to Amity, his glasses make him look Erudite. If anyone can look Divergent— a word I haven’t considered since the Aptitude Test— Mingyu does. 

I introduce myself as Ren because that’s what Changkyun called me when scolding the Candor girl. And I introduce Changkyun too because he has decided to feign sleep to avoid conversation. His mood has been weird since the Choosing Ceremony, and the Candor girl probably worsened it. I’m used to his behavior. I won’t beg him to act differently. 

The Candor girl is the last person who offers her name, and she only does it when I glance at her curiously. She sits next to me, maybe as a sign of apology, before saying, “I’m Jennie.”

“Cool.” Amber smiles at us. She glances at Kris, who has focused on something outside. She delicately shifts Lucas from resting on her shoulder to resting on another sleeping Dauntless boy and crawls to where Jennie and I sit. The harsh breeze disrupts her hair, but she doesn’t try to fix it. She claps her hands. “Okay. You didn’t ask for my opinion, but you’re about to get it.” 

Neither Jennie nor I object— probably because we don’t know what she’s about to talk about— so Amber continues, “So the way I see it, initiation is a little different for us Dauntless-borns and you Transfers. At least for Stage One.”

Jennie eyes Amber cautiously. “Should you really be telling us this?” It’s exactly what I’m wondering. 

“Dude, I’m not telling you anything the trainers won’t say once you jump into the compound.” Amber shrugs. “Besides, I’m not gonna tell you all the boring shit—”

She laughs when I flinch at her language, but hers isn’t a cruel laugh. Amber isn’t the kind of Dauntless who would point at me and call me Stiff. Soon it isn’t funny anymore, and she speaks again. “I just figure you should get a heads up on something some people—” she glares back at Kris— “will never understand. It’s great to be strong on your own. You will be. The training will make you strong. But when the shit hits the fan—”

This time, I don’t even blink at the profanity. Amber smiles. “You’re really just as strong as your best ally.”

I don’t understand what she means until it’s time to jump out of the train and onto the roof of a building I assume is the Dauntless compound. 

Jennie grabs my hand. She meets my eyes as she says, “Let me believe I’m paying you back,” and I know she’s afraid to jump alone. I nod. We jump together.

We land on our stomachs. Gravel digs into the skin on our arms, and I brush some off of my cheek, but we are laughing. Maybe we’re in the right place. 

Minhyuk is staring down at the space between the roof and the tracks. When he clutches his stomach and vomits down the side of the building, what he has seen is obvious. I don’t want to look at whoever fell. I just look around and make sure it isn’t Changkyun or Amber lying dead before I watch Kihyun grab Minhyuk around the shoulders. He stirs him toward the rest of the group. 

“Listen up, initiates!” A man older than us calls through the chatter. “My name is Minho, and I’m one of the leaders of your new faction!” He gestures us closer, and we obey. “Down there— several stories below us— is the entrance to our compound. You gotta jump. If you made it onto the train, and you made it onto this roof, you probably have what it takes to do this too. And if you don’t …”

He doesn’t have to finish the sentence. If you can’t do it, you don’t belong here. Minho is right; entering the compound is a test like everything else we’ve done so far. 

“Initiates— you have the honor of jumping first!” It’s clear from how he stands proudly on the building’s edge, gaze fixed simultaneously on all and none of us, that Minho truly considers it a great honor. 

Jennie and I have the advantage. Amber warned us that we would have to jump into the compound. But when I look at Jennie, when I see how she trembles, how her hands are twitching fists at her sides, I realize she doesn’t see that. 

I nudge her forward and give her a look that means Do it. Go first. Because first impressions matter in Dauntless and hers was ruined. She has to do something bold, something brave, or else people like Kris will never give her a chance. And there are probably a lot of people like Kris here. 

Jennie either doesn’t understand or she’s too afraid. Too many seconds are passing by without anybody stepping forward. I glance at Amber to wordlessly ask why no Dauntless-born jumps at the chance to chase an adrenaline high. She gives me the same look I gave to Jennie. 

There’s something about Amber’s encouragement that sends me racing to the roof’s edge. It’s as if by looking at her, her strength has become my strength.  
Minho claps my shoulder before stepping aside, giving everyone a clear visual of me standing and looking into the darkness below. 

Many things frighten me. Heights do not. Darkness does. 

Gulping, I shed my jacket and dress, which conceal a paler gray shirt and trousers. I will myself deaf to the snickers and whistles from those behind me. Yes, it’s funny for a Stiff to strip in front of a crowd. I realize that as the blush rises to my cheeks. But it’s funnier that a Stiff is, at least for a moment, the bravest in a bunch who boasts about freedom from fear. 

Throwing my clothes aside, I ready myself to jump because the longer I stand here, the harder it is to take the dive. 

As I fall so fast it feels almost like I’m flying— like gravity itself is reversing with the thumping of my heart— I start to think the dark isn’t so bad. It is easier to believe when I realize I am secured in a net at the bottom of the hole. 

I survived. I’m safe. And I’m face to face with somebody I never thought I’d see again. 

It has only been a day, and I have forgotten how handsome Shownu is. Or maybe I didn’t get a very good look at him yesterday—

No. My face heats up at the memory of gawking at his bare muscled arms. I looked at him. It’s more likely that the memory of his face— which I now see is beautiful in a delicate way that contradicts his toned body— has been blurred by yesterday’s many stresses. By the stresses that now seem years away. 

He is staring back at me. His plump pink lips are agape. I know he hasn’t forgotten me because he says, “It’s hot in here,” and rolls up his long black sleeves. His left eye winks so quickly I almost miss it. 

“Yah! Shownu!” A Dauntless girl whose bright red hair is tied up in a ponytail save for the bangs pressed against her forehead places her hands on her hips. “Flirt later! Get the girl’s name and make the announcement!”

Shownu doesn’t argue with her either because she is in a position of authority or because he knows he’s slacking on his job. “Whatever you say, Lisa.” He pulls me out of the net. Without releasing me— he holds me around my wrists— he asks, “Who do you want to be here?”

On the train, I introduced myself as Ren. So that’s the name I give Shownu. He mumbles, “Cute,” so only I can hear, and he follows it with a much louder yell of “First jumper— Ren!” which he hurls over his shoulder. The voice he uses to yell is different than whatever subtle whisper he speaks to me. 

I follow his gaze and, as my eyes adjust to the darkness, I realize that a crowd of Dauntless is cheering for my arrival. Pride— maybe what Minho feels, maybe what emboldens him to tiptoe on the edges of tall buildings— swells in my chest. 

Jennie screams the entire way down, even after she is caught by the net. It is only when the other Dauntless laugh and Lisa impatiently taps her foot while glaring at him that Shownu drops my wrists. He rushes to help Jennie to her feet. 

It’s obvious when her shrieks stop and her eyes widen at the sight of him. Jennie, too, is smitten with Shownu the moment she sees him. Even after she joins me in standing with the Dauntless crowd, she doesn’t deny herself the pleasure of staring at him. Maybe that openness is the result of her Candor upbringing. 

Maybe it’s my Abnegation aptitude that berates me whenever I look at him, whenever he catches my eye— I know it is. But I can’t tell if it’s the Abnegation discouragement of those feelings or the fact that I never want to feel that way again or the knowledge that he makes my new friend’s heart flutter too that makes looking at Shownu feel like a crime. 

I just know my stomach knots when I see him, and I hope we won’t interact much during initiation or after. I hope the Dauntless compound is so huge, we never run into each other again. 

But once all of the initiates have jumped down into the net and joined the crowd— once we, the transfers, are separated from the Dauntless-born initiates— once Lisa stands before us and starts her explanation of the three stages of initiation, mine is the shoulder Shownu taps. Not Jennie’s. And she notices. But before she can expose the depths of Candor’s influence on her character, Changkyun steps between us. 

I glance at Shownu briefly so he knows I’m listening, but I don’t keep my attention away from Lisa. She has already demonstrated that she isn’t opposed to scolding Shwonu in front of others, so she won’t hesitate to chastise me in front of the other initiates. Their attention wouldn’t bother Shownu. And it shouldn’t. But my face burns knowing that only his eyes are on me; I cannot handle more attention. 

He understands and obediently focuses on Lisa to appease me. Before he tells everyone else, Shownu mutters in my ear, “I’m the other transfer initiate trainer. Guess that means we’ll be seeing a lot of each other, huh, Ren?”

A lump forms in my throat. For some reason, I think it will help to look at his infuriatingly flustering tight-lipped grin. It doesn’t. 

He pats my back. Shownu’s touch is much gentler than Minho’s. “I’m glad you chose Dauntless.” 

I am too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're having a lovely day! Feedback is always appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you're having a lovely day! I appreciate all feedback!


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